


(I've Known You) A Life and a Day

by elderfisherprice



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Dramatic Shit Because That's All I Write Anymore, F/F, F/M, M/M, Reincarnation, Starts in 1981 in the Prologue, Then 2017 afterwards, YO GET READY FOR THIS SHIT, modern time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-02-17 22:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13087029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderfisherprice/pseuds/elderfisherprice
Summary: Mark Schwartz is a normal teenage boy halfway through his senior year of high school.There's only one thing that's not so normalHis past life is catching up to his new one- and fast.A reincarnation fic that nobody asked for but hopefully you'll enjoy.





	1. Prologue/A Glooming Peace

  Marvin always thought that in life, the primary goal was to have the perfect family. 

 As a young child, he was under the impression that this meant a wife, a child or two, and maybe a dog or a bird or something along those lines. That, to him, sounded like the ideal way to spend the rest of his otherwise insignificant life in the grand scheme of the universe. Going through his middle and high school years, however, the vision of his future that he had spent years carefully planning and carving out began to get fuzzy. His attention started to wander from the girls in their short skirts and low cut tops to the boys in gym shorts and leather jackets. This terrified him to an unhealthy degree. He had already gone through years of his life knowing he’d have that “tight-knit” family that was displayed in movies and tv shows. He couldn’t be...shouldn’t be…

 So he wasn’t.

 It wasn’t until Senior year of high school that he met Trina Silver, a nice Jewish girl and president of student council. They got along throughout the entire year, working together on science projects and planning study dates together. Spending time with Trina somehow helped Marvin divert his attention away from a life he knew he could never live and bring him back on track to his plan. This prompt him to ask her to the homecoming dance, where a kiss during a romantic slow song sealed their relationship from “just friends” to officially together.

 Trina often bragged about her boyfriend to her friends about how sweet and patient he was, since he never pressure her to have sex with him. In fact, he never brought up the topic at all. She always thought it was just him being shy. Marvin, on the other hand, just didn’t really think about it too much. He enjoyed holding her hand and kissing her cheek, of course he did. That’s what a boyfriend does. Just the thought that one day, Trina would ask him to sleep with her...that thought would make him tense up and his mouth go dry. 

 Eventually, just as he thought, Trina asked him to come over one night while her parents were away at a convention for the weekend. He spent the whole day wondering what the hell his girlfriend was planning, and repeatedly calmed himself down by assuring that he would be fine.

 Hours later, late at night, the exhausted girl was fast asleep in her bed, laying next to a wide awake, terrified boy on the verge of a nervous breakdown as a million thoughts surged throughout his mind.

 Something was definitely not normal.

 The couple stayed together after graduation, and even went to college together. On their two year anniversary, Marvin felt like he was obliged to present his girlfriend with a key, asking her hopefully if she would like for them to move in together. She gleefully accepted, and Marvin was ecstatic to finally begin the start of his family.

 Boxes were stacked and stuffed and strewn all across the brand new apartment, and the echo that was once there when they first went to view the building had disappeared. Marvin thought it had to be a symbol for something deep down in his subconscious that died when he asked Trina to move in with him.

 Living with Trina certainly wasn’t hard by any means, although Marvin soon realized that the quite, reserved girl he met in high school wasn’t just a persona, but her own unbreakable mindset. She often apologized in arguments that weren’t even her fault, and agreed with her boyfriend’s views and opinions that weren’t her own to prevent a fight. He liked that. He wanted a girl who would love him, and go out of her way to make him happy.

 Two little lines on a white stick brought Marvin out of his idealistic thoughts of a loving family to the cold, sudden reality. All the time spent thinking about his life in the future with a wife and kids and a normal existence were finally growing like the life growing inside of his girlfriend.

 The couple were married two months later. Not by their choice, of course, but Trina’s father refused for his grandchild to be born out of wedlock, and Marvin was not about to lose his opportunity of a normal life, even if he had to wed. 

 A little baby boy wrapped in a white blanket was in Marvin’s arms a mere eight and a half months after receiving the news, and every nervous thought or doubt flooding his mind just ceased to exist for the duration of holding his son. His  _ son _ . It was almost overwhelming. He had a wife and a child. He did it. He had his family.

 Sometimes he wondered how the hell everything changed so quickly. One day, married to a woman and raising a son, and the next, caring for his male lover in a piercing white hospital room as the man fought like hell to stay alive. His family was not perfect in society’s eyes, he knew this to be true, but it was perfect to him. He had his wife- well, his ex wife, but they still spoke to each other often, his son, his lover, his ex psychiatrist and now ex wife’s new husband, and his lesbian neighbors. All a ragtag bunch and a complete mess,  but still a tight-knit family in Marvin’s eyes.

 Whizzer Brown. Even his name felt like a dream. A simple concept. He was beautiful, that was for sure. Marvin had no idea what he was signing up for the day he met the man, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 After years of fighting and sex and making up and making out, everything was slowing down for the dramatic and melancholic conclusion of the grand story that was Whizzer’s life, and Marvin was preparing for the awful after effects. He spent hours holding his lover, until it reached a point that Whizzer could not longer be held, too frail to even be touched too roughly. It terrified Marvin so much that he felt like he was on the verge of a psychotic break. He abandoned everything he ever knew- a normal, perfect, straight family- to love a man. A man he really did love, and now that was getting taken away from him too. 

 Funerals had always been too much for Marvin, even when he didn’t know the person that well. So this one was a thousand times harder, to see the love of his life laying in a rectangular coffin, eyes shut like he was simply in a deep sleep rather than dead. It was Marvin’s job to give the eulogy, a job that he didn’t want to accept but knew he still had to do. After all, if he wouldn’t do it, who would? None of Whizzer’s family showed up. Not even one. It sickened Marvin, to arrived at the funeral of a man who was so kind and loving only for it to be six people attending, all who had no blood relation to him.

 Marvin broke down halfway through his speech, too caught up with emotions and flashbacks of a time when everything was alright to even go on. Jason ran up to hug him and helped him speak the rest of the words on the piece of paper that was so tattered and worn down from Marvin writing something down and erasing it over and over again due to his scrambled thoughts and inability to keep on track without bursting into tears.

 It wasn’t long before Marvin began to show the same signs as Whizzer, and was also subjected to the cold and uncomfortable hospital bed and the long hours spent alone and the pain- Jesus Christ, the pain- that was so excruciating that he spent his time alone praying with every fiber of his being that he could just let go and take his final breath.

 It wasn’t long before Marvin looked as thin and pale as his lover before him. Jason rarely came to see him, still traumatized from witnessing Whizzer’s downward spiral that he couldn’t bear to witness his own father go down the same path. It would hurt too much. His father didn’t blame him at all. 

 It wasn’t long before Marvin’s wish was granted, taking one more shallow breath, closing his eyes and clutching a picture frame when his heart rate inevitably disappeared.

 The picture frame was buried with him, as requested in his will. It was a picture taken by his late lover, of the men and women that Marvin proudly called his family, standing together by the bleachers after one of Jason’s baseball games. It had always been Marvin’s favorite picture. He felt it was only right to always have it with him. So he did.

 Forever.

 That word always fascinated Marvin. How could something last forever? Everything had an expiration date, their inevitable  _ end _ . Forever was impossible. That’s what he always thought...until he met Whizzer. Until he loved Whizzer. That man made him feel like forever was more real than his own existence. Forever wasn’t something that was witnessed with everyday objects, or events, or even people. It was witness in memories. In recollections of tender moments and warm kisses and baseball games and family outings and all the things that warmed Marvin’s heart.

 Marvin has a small smile on his face when his casket in closed in an abrupt finality, the warmth still there in his soul against the cold body, never to fade. 

******

 It’s mornings that he had to wake up at 6am that Mark abhorred with every fiber of his being.

 After a few minutes of tossing and turning in his bed and trying to ignore the blaring of the alarm on his phone, he sat up and tapped the screen to plunge himself back into the silence once again. The mundane tasks of starting a new day began, a routine so familiar that it was practically second nature by now. He tossed on a random outfit, uncaring of what it really looked like as he ran down the stairs to grab a random granola bar from the pantry. The perk of parents never being home meant you could get out of the house quickly in the mornings without the boring conversations or questions about schools and homework.

 The cold November air made Mark shiver slightly as he struggled to pull on a gray hoodie and retrieve his car keys from his pocket. He started up the old, clunky car he had bought in a junkyard for next to nothing and made his way to the destination at hand.

 You’d think an eighteen year old boy would be heading to school already, right? Well, that was definitely the end game for Mark, but first, he had an agenda to attend to. The nearest flower shop was only around the block, and had the same flowers picked and ready for the teenager each week. He handed the florist the necessary money with a soft smile and set the bouquet in the passenger seat, having to take a deep breath to calm his nerves.

 It didn’t take long at all for him to find it after he parked. After all, he’d been going there for years so it was pretty much second nature- exactly like his morning routine. He paused at the granite marker with a sigh, placing the bouquet- a dozen roses- gently against it. 

 “Hey, baby...I missed you.”

 There was no response, and Mark never expected on anyway.

 “I figure one of these days, somebody’s going to catch me talking to you and they’ll think I’m crazy.”

 Silence made Mark’s eyes well with tears. “I miss you so damn much. I hate being like this. I hate this body. I hate this life,” he admitted, sniffling sadly. “I want to be with you. Why couldn’t I just be with you?” The answer, he’d never know.

 And that drove him crazy.

 “I’ll see you soon…” He took one long, deep breath to maintain his fragile composure before standing up to properly read the marker with one final sigh and turning to walk away.

 

**Micah “Whizzer” Brown**

**Jan. 12, 1950-Oct. 7, 1981**

**Caring Partner, Trusted Friend**

 

“...my lover.”


	2. All That's Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark starts his day at school and meets the new kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! My sister had her baby yesterday and I spent the whole day at the hospital writing but I just now had time to finish it and post it! This story is starting to feel a bit rushed for me, but I promise I'll include other characters and actually begin the storyline soon! There's more to it than this! I promise!

  Mark realized early on that high school in the 60s and high school in 2017 were two totally different things. He couldn’t quite remember what school in his old life was like, just vague blurs of school dances and lunches and boring class sessions where the teacher would drone on and on about some mundane topic that he couldn’t care less about. Nevertheless, he still noticed a difference between the way things were. Food sold by the school was more regulated, students were significantly more tolerable, and classes seemed to be ten times harder. Despite the change, Mark was still in Honors classes, and one of the top students in school. In turn, he was one of the least popular kids in his grade, and pretty much the entire school, but he didn’t let that get him down. After all, popularity had never been his primary goal.

  As he parked his car in its usual spot by the building, he tried with all his might to forget that usual feeling of anguish he got when he’d visit Whizzer’s grave. He had spent too many nights attempting to shake away the thought that his lover had been just like him, and his soul never transferred to an afterlife, but instead a new body. It was a bittersweet thought, but he knew it was simply that. A thought. An idea that was beyond all possibility. 

  The hallway smelled of unhealthy snacks and flavored chapstick, and the repetitive clashing of lockers slamming shut made Mark jump as he had to duck past taller students and bookworms reading as they walked to even make it to his first class. He had come to a conclusion years before, on the first day of his freshman year, that he absolutely hated high school. The classes were long and useless, practically teaching him nothing about the world or how to survive alone in it. The students, though more accepting and open than in the 60s, were still awful and honestly more annoying. Mark hated this, but nevertheless continued his walk to English, his first class of the day. 

  As he rounded a corner, his body was met with a sudden force and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground. A second or two passed by before he realized he had ran into some poor random kid, and finally opened his eyes to apologize.

  When he was met with beautiful brown eyes, all he could do was stare, suddenly losing the ability to speak with cognitive thought. Thankfully, the other boy decided to talk first, clearly annoyed at the inconvenience of being ran into. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going, man.” That tone...it was familiar. Too familiar. Mark had to bite his lip from making a comment, because he had never seen this boy before and if he was wrong, which he was definitely sure he was, he didn’t want to scare the boy away before he actually got a chance to meet him.

  But those eyes…

  “S-Sorry, I was just trying to get to class. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Marv- Mark.” He had always had a growing urge to use the name from his previous life. Besides, it didn’t even feel like this one was real. It was almost as if he was a 36 year old man living in the shell of an 18 year old boy.  _ Wow, that totally doesn’t sound pedophilic. _

__ The boy didn’t respond for a minute, taking time to stand and fix his hair haphazardly. “I’m-” Just as he was about to announce himself, the bell rang, causing absolute chaos in the halls as students rushed to get to their classes before teachers started getting trigger happy with tardy slips and detentions. “-late, apparently. I’ll catch you later though,” he grinned, flashing a smile that made Mark’s heart ache. And then he winked, before disappearing into the sea of teenagers.

  Just like that, Mark’s thoughts about Whizzer returned, more alive and painful than ever.

******

  The middle of the day was always his favorite time, for one specific reason. After spending three years making friends with the drama teacher, he was granted with a spare key to the auditorium. The beauty of this was during his spare hour before lunch, he was able to sneak off to the private, peaceful bliss of the stage. As the bell rang to signal the beginning of his free period, he pretty much ran out of the room and in the direction of the arts wing. Upon arriving, he began the usual routine. Signing in, unlocking the door, and turning on the lights. Once he actually stood up on the stage, he got the amazing feeling of relaxation and all the tension from the typical school day life his body. Every day, this was the main thing he looked forward to. Standing on the stage, able to sing his heart out and get his feelings out. Seeing a therapist was out of the question, since nobody in their right mind would believe a 17 year old boy that he was once a gay man in the 80s with a boyfriend, an ex wife, and a son. So, instead, he took to song. Every song he wrote revolved around Whizzer in some way, and the one he was currently working on was even more so. He took a deep breath, let his mind wander, and began to sing, the familiar words coming out smoothly as he hoped for new ones to flow along with it.

 

_ Though the winter blows bitter cold _

_ And bright days are done _

_ There’s a season we’ll soon behold _

_ When we’ll all laugh in the sun _

 

  Mark closed his eyes as he sang, trying desperately to keep his words from trembling.

_ Though we danced and sang through the night _

_ Now those nights are none _

_ Soon they’ll come a new morning light _

_ We’ll sing and dance in the sun _

 

  Suddenly he wasn’t Mark anymore, and the man he missed was calmly leading him in a dance, singing softly along with him.

 

_ Though the fates have torn us apart _

_ And we don’t know how or when _

_ With the dawn I know in my heart _

_ We’ll be together again _

 

  Marvin was crying as Whizzer held him, not wanting to let go as he danced along happily. This was perfect. This was beautiful.

 

  This was...not real.

  Two voices slowly become one when Marvin realized it was all in his head, and Mark found his final verse, tears rushing down his face as the words practically fell out of his mouth.

 

_ I’ve known you a life and a day _

_ But we’ve just begun _

_ Come with me I’ll show you the way _

_ We’ll soon live free in the sun _

 

  He sniffled and sobbed, but let the silence fill the air for a couple moments.

 

_ We’ll soon live free in the sun _

 

  A few seconds of silence passed by, and suddenly Mark was jolted from his own attempt at grieving by the sound of someone clapping at the back of the auditorium. He looked out to the array of seats to find the person clapping. The boy from earlier that morning. “So you’re hot and you can sing? Surprised the girls aren’t flocking to you...or the guys.” 

  Mark wiped the stray tears from his eyes as he made his way off the stage to get closer to the boy, who still remained nameless to Mark's dismay. “More the second. I’m gay.”

  “Good to know I’m not the only one. There’s like, no queer people around here. It’s all sports and trucks and hunting and shit like that.” They laughed, but it was quickly followed by a semi-awkward silence. “So, what were you singing up there? Because you’re either a really good actor or that song really makes you emotional.”

  Mark cleared his throat before responding, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t creep him out. “Uh, oh it’s just something I’ve been working on. I’m writing it for someone I lost a while ago…” he trailed off, fighting back tears once again.

  The boy understood that Mark didn’t want to speak of it and quickly changed the subject. “Well, since you unwillingly shared that song and your singing with me, I feel like it’s only fair for me to tell you my name.” He stuck his hand out, grinning that same grin that made Mark’s stomach churn. “I’m Michael.”

  Mark smiled and got ready to say something hopefully witty or charming, but the boy, apparently named Michael, wasn’t finished speaking. Mark’s heart fell to the floor, his eyes grew wide, and the sinking, anxious feeling returned yet grew ten thousand times stronger.

  “But everyone calls me Whizzer.”


	3. Moving Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark just wants to know what is happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically named off of the song from The Last Five Years and also named for how I feel about this story so far.

  The quick patter of Mark’s shoes hitting the tile floor could be heard all down the hallway along with the sound of his heavy breathing, and quite honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if his own thoughts racing around his mind could be heard too. He wasn’t certain as to where he was running. He just knew he needed to get out. Go somewhere. Anywhere that wasn’t here.  _ This isn’t happening.  _

  When he finally reached an exit he took it, running out to the cold autumn air and jumping into the privacy of his own car before finally letting his mind reminisce on what had just happened.

 

_ “But everyone calls me Whizzer.” The mention of the name made Mark freeze up, his blood running cold and all the air seeming to leave his lungs. Michael looked at him with a perplexed countenance when he failed to utter anything in reply. “You alright? You kinda look like you’re having a seizur-” Mark didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before turning and running out of the auditorium, thousands of thoughts and images of he and Whizzer in their darkest moments racing through his mind so quickly that he didn’t stop to grab his things or listen to Michael when he called out for him to come back. _

 

  Mark attempted to take deep breaths to avoid the feeling of approaching a mental breakdown. After what seemed like hours of trying to collect his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and scrolled furiously through his contacts with one particular person in mind. Upon finally finding it, he hit the call button and waited patiently for the ringing to stop and somebody to pick up.

  “Hello?” 

  Mark sighed in relief and cleared his throat to speak without giving away too much emotion. “Hey, can you meet me somewhere? Like right now?” he asked, his voice growing from it’s original neutral tone to something more frantic than he’d like.

  “Um...sure? The counselor's office is empty right now. I’m in there sorting papers. Is something wron-” 

  There was no time wasted to answer the question, mostly because Mark needed to get to the counselor’s office as soon as he possibly could, but also because didn’t know the answer to the question himself. Was he okay? He just potentially met his long lost lover, now held captive in a new body but with the same beautiful brown eyes. How could he possibly be okay?

  Passing random students in the hallway, Mark hoped and prayed he wouldn’t run in Michael. He couldn’t be around him. Not now. He finally rounded a corner and made a sharp turn into the counselor’s office, being greeted by the sound of papers falling to the floor and a loud groan of frustration. “Whoa, calm yourself, man. Wait. You’re supposed to be the one to say that, not me,” Mark joked shakily, walking up to a boy with curly black hair and helping him retrieve the papers that had fallen less than gracefully to the floor.

  The boy looked up at him and opened his mouth like he was about to pop off with some witty comment to get Mark to get off his case, but immediately stopped when he got a good look at his face. “What’s going on? You never usually call me during the day.”

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t a typical day, Mendel.”

  His name wasn’t actually Mendel. His name was Menachem, but Mark noticed how shockingly close he resembled Mendel from the first day he met him that he just knew somewhere deep down that it was him. Black, curly hair. Interested in psychology. A total dork. Kind of a hippie vibe. Yep, to Mark, that was definitely Mendel.

  The real Mendel had been hit by a car in the early nineties on his way to the hospital to visit Trina, who had been slowly losing her mental health since Whizzer’s death, and most likely way before that with all the awful bullshit that Marvin put her through. Needless to say, Mendel didn’t survive the crash, and that pulled Trina to her breaking point, leaving Jason parentless at the age of 24.

_   Jason...I wonder if he’s still okay… _

  Menachem cleared his throat, the name not shocking him the tiniest bit, yet still making him uneasy. “Mark, we’ve been over this-”

  “Look, I know we have but I’m not exactly in the mood to talk about how you think that I’m close to a psychotic meltdown,” Mark snapped, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath to calm himself. “...I saw him.”

  “Wait, you...you mean Whizzer?” Menachem asked, making Mark’s blood run cold no matter how familiar he was with the name.

  “Yes. He’s here. There aren’t exactly millions of guys who are nicknamed “Whizzer” It’s him. I recognize his eyes. They’re impossible to miss.”

  Menachem hummed to indicate that he was listening, setting the stack of papers that had previously fallen onto the desk before gesturing for Mark to sit in the chair next to him. “So...we’ve already been over how I feel like you should seek professional help, right?”

  Mark rolled his eyes and crossed his arms to show his annoyance. “Yes, many times, but you’re my cousin so why not get mediocre advice free of charge?”

**

  After an hour of talking to Menachem, they had reached the conclusion that Mark needed to talk to Michael and figure out if he knew anything at all. Mark had a slight sense of optimism, hoping and praying to every possible deity that he would ask and Michael would kiss him like Whizzer would kiss him. Like old times, when every waking moment felt like he was being stabbed in the chest by the burning homesick feeling of not having Whizzer by his side. 

  The bell rang to tell the hundreds of students that lunch had begun, causing Mark to run to his destination before the crowds of teenagers could swarm out of their classrooms like demented bees on steroids. He tried going back to the auditorium in hopes that Michael was still there, but it was a dead end. The library,  cafeteria, parking lot, even the admissions office, nothing. He decided to give up and hope he could spot him before the end of the school day, and walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face to keep himself together.

  And that’s where he found Michael.

  Pressed up against the wall, making out with a jock.

  Mark was slightly disgusted, considering it was a BATHROOM and they were swapping spit like they were at a nightclub, but he also felt the deep pang of jealousy that he almost forgot the feeling of. His hands worked by themselves as they pulled the guy away from him, Mark glaring at him until the jock just walked out of the bathroom with wide eyes.

  “Mark, what the hell?!” Michael groaned, looking both unsatisfied and annoyed.

  Mark was going to respond, to ask him all the questions plaguing his mind and keeping him from forming other coherent thoughts. He wanted to ask if he remembered August 19, 1981, the day he collapsed at the end of an excruciating game of racquetball, or if he could recall September 23rd, when he told Marvin that he truly loved him for the first. He wanted to know if the boy knew about October 7, 1981, when he lay in a hospital bed as a cold, empty shell of a man and painfully uttered out to his lover that he didn’t want to die and that he was so goddamn scared, until minutes later when his final breath was taken and his soul was gone, along with the majority of Marvin’s.

  But he didn’t. He didn’t say a word.

  He just walked up, stared into those warm brown eyes, and kissed him like his life depended on it.

  Michael didn’t protest. He didn’t fight or push him away. He just kissed back, slightly confused by the familiarity of it.

  Mark hoped that moment never ended. Because that was _ his Whizzer _ . It was him. He didn’t need the questions to know. He felt Whizzer’s soul touch his own, inviting him to close his eyes and see the beautiful man he fell in love with all those years ago, in a life they could never fulfill together.

  And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHTY this took so long because my sister had her baby last week and she was up at the hospital with him all week so I was babysitting my other nephews and couldn't write, but here's the next chapter! You can tell that I'm basically winging it each chapter honestly. I am in no way a professional and my writing is really sloppy, but I guess the important thing is that I tried.   
> I chose the name Menachem for three reasons: 1) It's close to "Mendel" and 2) According to Google, Mendel is a Hebrew name meaning "comforter" and it is also a diminutive of Menachem, so I decided to go with that because I love Jewish names so much? Like that's not meant to sound like I'm fandomizing Jewish names or something I just genuinely appreciate people with religious/cultural names that aren't considered common 
> 
> ALSO
> 
> I'm gonna preface this by saying both Mark and Michael are 18! I am most definitely not writing smut of any kind because no but there may be implied sex at some points. They aren't minors! I'm not gonna fetishize them! I want angst and fluff only, no smut!
> 
> Anyway, I hope this turned out okay. It's almost 3am so I'm gonna go now before I fall asleep on my laptop. Until Next Time!


	4. When He Sees Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing...lesbians!

  Mark didn’t know what he was doing.

  To be fair, he rarely knew what he was doing in the best of times, but this was an occasion where he had absolutely no plan of what to do.

  As he unwillingly pulled his lips away from the comfort of Michael’s, he awkwardly played with the hem of his shirt and moved his glance from the familiar warm brown eyes to the harsh white tile of the bathroom floor in an attempt to avoid the other’s reaction. They both stood in awkward silence for a painfully long amount of time until Mark became too uncomfortable to continue the quiet and spoke up. “...Does the name Micah Brown sound familiar?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He flinched a little when he finally said the name, surprised that he could get it out without crying like all the times he talked about the man to Menachem, and he tried far too hard to hide the twinge of pain in his voice when he did say it.

  Michael stayed in the same stunned position even after hearing Mark’s question, unsure of how to answer and still trying to shake the surprise of how good a kisser he was. “Uh...no? Aside from the fact that it’s close to my name.”

  Mark ignored the way his heart dropped from the sharp disappointment, but paused when he was hit with a sudden realization. 

  This was the first time he had ever kissed a boy in that life.

  And he didn’t feel the same dread he did when he kissed a boy (Whizzer) for the first time as Marvin.

  Perhaps it was because it was 2017 and things were considerably more different than before, where you could get the shit kicked out of you simply by looking at another man a certain way. Or it could be due to the fact that he wasn’t married with a child like before. Or maybe...just maybe…

  This was his chance to live a life he always wanted.

  Sure, it hurt like hell without Whizzer, and there wasn’t a single waking moment that he didn’t miss him, but there was no use in dwelling on it and hoping for the rest of his life that he could be reunited with the love of his life...or lives…

  Maybe kissing Michael was the epiphany he needed to pull him out of the misery of the aftermath of his previous life and focus on the time he had now. He made it clear that he wasn’t his Whizzer, despite the similarity in his eyes and his personality and the fact that they had the same exact nickname, but he still made his heart flutter in the same way Whizzer always did.

  “Oh- yeah. Never mind. It was just- never mind,” Mark rambled, unsure of how to explain himself. The sound of the bell signalling the second lunch shift made both boys groan out of pure annoyance, Mark biting his lip when Michael finally took a step towards him, now holding up a Sharpie.

  “Gimme your arm.” The shorter of the two didn’t protest, simply sticking his arm out and letting him glide the worn down marker across his skin. When he was finished, Mark glanced down at his arm to see a phone number written in semi-neat handwriting. “Text me sometime,” he hummed, sneaking one more quick kiss and flashing that signature smirk before finally disappearing from the bathroom.

******

  “He obviously likes you! Why else would he give you his number?”

  After standing in utter shock for a long time, Mark had finally left the bathroom and languidly made his way out to meet with his friends for lunch. Normally, he had the first lunch shift, but he usually ditched the first half of french class to eat with his friends, who all had the second shift. So, here he was five minutes later, sitting on the edge of the water fountain and spilling everything that happened to his three friends. Well, his two friends. Trinity was more of a frenemy. They didn’t hate each other, per se, but they would frequently argue about some unimportant topic that resulted in screaming matches and awful name calling. Nevertheless, they still interacted, as they both did occasionally share interests and had times to mutually bond over a topic they both enjoyed.

  “I just met him today, and I kissed him!” Mark groaned, covering his face with his hands as he cringed at his behavior. He obviously left out the part about Whizzer. The only person he ever felt comfortable enough to talk about anything like that to was Menachem, and he didn’t want to go through the same reaction he received from his cousin. Or worse, one of them could call him crazy and tell his parents. He was not prepared to spend the rest of his life in therapy.

  “Life is far too short to not kiss cute boys, Mark,” Corinna replied, popping a grape into her mouth and brushing a bit of her blonde hair from her face.

  Trinity, scoffed softly, smoothing her dark blue skirt to try and rid it of any stray crumbs of her sandwich. “Says the one who only kisses girls.”

  Corinna shrugged, but didn’t comment, instead staring back at Mark with crossed arms. “You don’t wanna die alone, do you?”

  “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Charlene asked her girlfriend with a raised brow, shaking a packet of cherry flavoring into her water bottle. 

  The blonde shook her head, not really caring about the intensity of what she had said. “Nope. I am sick of seeing Mark so bitte- I mean alone,” she started, correcting herself when she saw the betrayed expression on her friend’s face, “and we need to fix it. He clearly likes you, so just ask him out!”

  Mark hummed a slight reply, trying hard to keep his connection of his friends to the ones of his past life to himself. Charlene and Corinna were the spitting images of Charlotte and Cordelia. Just the thought made him feel sad. He missed his friends. They had been buried near Whizzer, as requested in their wills, and Mark visited them at times as well.

  After Whizzer had died, Charlotte had begun working herself nearly to the grave to figure out what had caused his death, and that only escalated when Marvin followed his lover. One day, in 1988, Cordelia called her lover in a frenzy, screaming about how something had caught fire and it was spreading in the house. Charlotte, of course, called the fire department and broke every traffic law possible to get to their home in a record time. By then, the fire had spread to nearly the entire building and the blonde was nowhere to be seen. Without a second of debate, Charlotte ran in to retrieve her lover.

  The obituary article ended blankly with “there were no survivors”, followed by information of the funeral dates.

  “Mark? Hello? Earth to Mark!” Trinity called out, waving her hand in front of the boy’s face. When he finally came back to focus, the three girls were looking at him with confused expressions. “You zoned out. Are you feeling okay?”

  Mark nodded slowly, looking around for a bit to clear his thoughts until a certain boy caught his eye. “That’s him. That’s Michael.”

  Corinna and Charlene looked while Trinity moved her attention back to her food, uninterested in Mark’s love life to pay any attention to it.

  “He looks nice…” Charlene started, looking over at her girlfriend and sighing when she noticed the gears in her head beginning to turn. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don-”

  “HEY MICHAEL!” Corinna called out, grinning when the boy snapped his head over to look for the person who had just yelled out his name. Mark felt the blood drain from his face as he looked away, hoping to hide himself with his hoodie.

  When Michael finally walked over to the group after Corinna excitedly waved him over, he smiled awkwardly and stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Um, hello? And it’s Whizzer, by the way. That’s what everyone calls me.”

  Mark didn’t protest when Corinna persuaded him to join them, and began and awkward conversation with the boy to try and get to know him better with Corinna and Charlene’s sad attempts to ask questions for him.

  It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was something.

  And Mark would definitely take something over nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna start tweeting my progress on chapters so you guys can know when I'll be posting, so follow me @eld_fisherprice


	5. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group hangs out at the mall, Mark encounters a problem, and familiar faces reappear

  The bright lights and the busy atmosphere of people walking around did nothing to help Mark’s anxiety as he sat somewhat impatiently for Corinna and Charlene to return with their food.

  He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but the blonde had somehow managed to convince their entire group to hang out at the mall despite Mark’s inability to want to do anything that required leaving his bedroom. He and Michael had been texting back and forth for the past week, and although they only knew each other for about eight days, Mark only got happier whenever they talked.

  As if on cue, his phone went off in the text tone he said exclusively for Michael, who he still refused to call Whizzer despite the protests from the boy. He typed in the four digit code, 9449, and pulled up the conversation between the two of them to read the new message.

_ ‘hey there. still hanging out with everyone?’ _

  In the past week, Corinna and Charlene had practically inducted Michael into the group, becoming fast friends particularly with the bubbly blonde. Trinity, however, did not take a liking to him. At all. Only three days into knowing each other, they engaged in their first argument about the behavior of the boys in school. Trinity had complained about how rude they all were, while Michael protested that that statement was making an assumption about a significantly large group of people that she didn’t even really know. Needless to say, this resulted in a borderline screaming match and Mark having to basically pull Michael away from the conflict.

‘ _ Yep. Cor’s still a little bummed that you couldn’t come with, but Trinity’s alright without you here.’ _

_ ‘she really doesn’t like me huh?’ _

  Mark bit his lip and glanced over at the girl in question, who was looking not so subtly at Menachem from across the food court. The boy had come along with the group, partly due to wanting to figure out how Mark reacted to larger scale social situations with more people than at school, but also because he had the biggest crush on Trinity and he jumped at any opportunity to spend time around her.

_ ‘To be fair, she really doesn’t like anyone.’ _

  The sound of two girls giggling made Mark send Michael a quick farewell text and pocket his phone, watching Menachem follow Corinna and Charlene to their table.

  “Alright, Wendy’s for Mark and Char, Taco Bell for me, Burger King for Menachem, and...homophobia for Trin,” Corinna groaned, handing each person their respective bag of food.

  Trinity rolled her eyes at the blonde’s over exaggeration, grabbing her bag from Chick-Fil-A. “They make good food, it’s not my fault that the owner doesn’t like gay people,” she replied with a sigh as she started to unwrap her food. Trinity wasn’t homophobic, per se. Sure, she’d get a bit uncomfortable when Charlene and Corinna would kiss, but that was more along the lines of seeing a nice, stable, healthy relationship and feeling jealous that she couldn’t have that. It reminded Mark of sophomore year, when he and Trinity dated for over a year until Mark finally old her he was gay, which was most likely another cause for her uneasiness. After months of not talking to each other, they finally agreed to be just friends, although a bit of tension still hung in the air whenever the two were in the same area for too long.

  “Good food can still be homophobic food, my dear Trinity,” Corinna mumbled before digging into her own food. Mark slowly let his mind phase out of the conversation, his mind roaming to Michael and their conversations from the past week. He also couldn’t help but think about the slight flutter in his chest whenever he heard the text tone from the brown eyed boy. He couldn’t help but wonder if Michael had the same developing crush he did.

  He understood that the Whizzer Brown he knew in the late 70’s was long gone, as was the man he was in that time. Right now, he was Mark Schwartz. Marvin Schulz was dead, and that was the undeniable truth.

  Mark had come to the conclusion that his new life needed to begin without dwelling on the past, so he decided to live his new life to the fullest, and this meant living it in the way he wanted to.

  And right now, he wanted Michael.

  The sound of Charlene snapping pulled Mark out of his thoughts, jolting his head up with a perplexed expression. 

  “You still there? You looked like a space cadet there,’ she asked, turning her attention back to her food.

  Mark nodded, glanced around the food court with a neutral expression until something in particular caught his eye and made his heart drop to the floor.

  Michael was standing across the food court with a member of their school’s baseball team, smiling and laughing in a way that made Mark’s chest hurt, and not in a good way.

  He felt so crushed. Were they on a date? Was he just leading Mark along to tease him, or was he genuinely just being friendly?

  After a second or two passed, Mark stood up abruptly and tossed his half-eaten food into the garbage bin next to their table, catching the attention of his friends. “I- uh, I gotta get home. I forgot I- I have homework to do.”

  “No you don’t, you finished it yester-” Menachem began to protest, but shut his mouth upon seeing the look of betrayal on his cousin’s face. “Alright. Text me when you get home, okay?”

  Mark responded with a quick nod before standing and making his way towards the exit. He couldn’t help but steal one quick look at Michael, which was a total mistake since they briefly made eye contact and Mark could watch Michael’s expression change from joy to temporary shock. He didn’t wait for anything else to happen before he left, jumping into his clunky car and driving home in tears. He wasn’t really sure why he was crying, it’s not like they were dating. Mark guessed he just had this hope that since they talked so much, it wouldn’t be long before it was socially acceptable to ask him out for a date and then they’d be together in no time. But, of course, his plan had to fall through. Of course there was no hope.

  Of course.

  When he arrived home he immediately ran up to his room, flopping down on his bed with an exhausted, tear-filled sigh. The sound of his phone going off made him groan, unlocking it quickly and noticing the the new message from Michael.

**_Sender Blocked._ **

******

  Mark didn’t know why visiting Whizzer’s grave calmed him down, but he knew he really needed to stop going there. It wouldn’t be long before someone took notice and asked him what he was doing at a grave site for people who died before he was even born. Then again, it’s not like he even cared, but discontinuing his frequent visits would spare him of the inevitable embarrassment of someone taking notice and him having to explain.

  Today, however, he was shocked to see someone standing in front of his own grave, simply starting at the headstone with an unreadable expression.

  He tentatively walked towards Whizzer’s grave, mostly to set the bouquet of roses down, now more a given for him than a surprise, but also to get a better look of the other man. His face look worn down. Tired. Not particularly sad, but he still had sullen undertones. He did look a little perplexed when Mark set the flowers down, but smiled a little.

  “Those were his favorite. How’d you know?”

  Mark looked taken aback, but tried to respond without giving anything away or sounding dumb. “My aunt, uh, told me. Micah was my second cousin…” he mumbled, lying through his teeth. The man didn’t seem to notice, however, and merely smiled. 

  “I didn’t know he had family members. At least none who cared, besides…” he stopped, biting his lip to hold back his tears. “He was a good man. Gave so many people hope for their future.”

  Mark simply nodded in agreement, staring back at the all too familiar headstone but still listening to the man as he started saying his goodbyes.

  “I’ll...I’ll come by again soon. I promise...bye Dad. I love you.”

  It only took Mark half a second to register what he just heard, and as he turned around, the man walking away turned into the boy he left behind.

_   Jason. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post!!! My dad was in the hospital with blood clots in his lungs, my phone literally won't charge anymore, and I'm currently in a bad home situation so it's hard to write as often as I'd like. But let me know how you like this chapter!!!


	6. Journey To The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Michael discuss what happened at the mall, and Mark reminisces on the past with a familiar person of his past.

  The weekend flew by quicker than expected for Mark, and when his alarm went off on that dreaded Monday morning, he had to talk himself out of faking sick in order to skip school. After dragging himself through the mundane tasks to get ready for the eight hours of literal hell, he ran from his porch to his beat up car in an attempt to escape the downpour that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Or perhaps it seemed that way because Mark hadn’t even bothered to check the weather before he stepped out that morning. Either way, he didn’t particularly care for the dark and gloominess or the tired feeling that plagued his state of mind as a result of it. But still, he started up his car (after one or two tries, let’s be honest) and made his way to the giant teenager prison cell known as high school.

  The front doors swung open before he even got to them himself, his eyes meeting the nearly flame-filled ones of his blonde friend. Uh-oh. He was in trouble. Corinna was rarely unhappy, and almost never got mad, so that look usually indicated that his only way to survive would be to turn and run as fast as physically possible. He decided against it though, recalling the time she tackled a literal football player who tried to harass her and Charlene.

  “Hey Cor...what’s up?” The question only seemed to piss her off even further, making the urge to run seem way more appealing with each passing second.

  “Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me. You know what you did.”

  Mark suddenly recalled his childhood years whenever he got into some sort of trouble, with his mother’s stern face and crossed arms and him standing there with a wave of guilt rushing over him. He didn’t like it one bit. “...No?”

  Corinna sighed in frustration, grabbing Mark’s arm and practically yanking him down the already crowded hallways. “He’s been texting me all weekend saying that he didn’t know what he did wrong and that you probably hate him. You’re really fucking with his head. Fix it. Now.”

  Mark had no time to argue or share his side of the story, because the next thing he knew he had been shoved into a room and a soft click of the lock indicated that he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

  “Y’know, some people at least have the courtesy to tell someone what they did wrong before blocking them.”

  Mark turned around to find the source of the sudden voice that made him jump in surprise, only to freeze up at the sight of Michael leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a somewhat pissed expression on his face.

  “Well, some people at least have the courtesy to say they’re not interested rather than lead people on,” he returned just as sharply, watching the stone-faced boy grow confused.

  “What the hell are you talking about? How did I lead you on?”

  “I saw you with Eric Roberts at the mall. Figures you’d go after him. He’s nice, good looking-”

  “And in love with Janet Parker,” Michael replied, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “That’s what this is all about?”

  Mark didn’t answer, but felt the embarrassment, confusion, and anger boil in him when Michael began to laugh.

  “Mark, I was only at the mall with him because he’s trying to get me on the baseball team and he’s a cool guy. I can be friends with guys and not want to screw them.”

  It was at this point that the relief within the other had died down and the guilt began to shine through. “I-”

  “What’s the matter?” Michael asked softly before taking a few steps forward so that their faces were mere inches apart. “Don’t like to share?”

  The sound of the bell cut Mark off before he could speak and Michael stepped away. “Unblock my number or I’ll sic Corinna on you...again,” he joked with a quick wink, and it was off to the next seven hours of hell.

******

  Mark hesitated to knock on the door. What would he say? How could he lie his way through this? What was he going to say? He already lied about being Whizzer’s second cousin. That was so dumb! Why would he do that? Why didn’t he just bullshit something about his own side of the family? That way it’d make sense for him to figure out the address. Regardless, he was here and it was too late. His hand found its way to the door and before he knew it, he had knocked, and not too long after, someone answered.

  Jason looked tired. That was the only way Mark could explain it. The bags under his eyes looked darker than you could ever expected from someone who, just a few decades prior, would complain about not being about to swing a bat the right way or beat grown adults at chess. Besides the obvious tiredness Mark noticed, the man barely changed from how he looked as a child. He still maintained the curly hair, although it was better kept and less crazy now. He still wore random t-shirts with weird logos and designs. And he still had that look in his eyes that seemed hopeful for the future, despite the slight undertone of melancholy.

  “....You’re the kid from the cemetery. Whizzer’s cousin, right?” Jason asked, tilting his head just like he used to do as a kid when he asked a question.

  To be honest, it felt weird for Mark to hear Jason call him a kid, but he had to remind himself he was no longer his father, but in fact, thirty-two years younger than him. “Second cousin, but yeah. I’m Mark.”

  “I’m Jason...not that I’m trying to chase you off, but...how did you get my address?”

******

  Twenty minutes and some bullshit excuse about calling numbers in an old address book of Whizzer’s later, the two had situated on Jason’s couch and were going through old photo albums.

  “I remember this! It started raining so my game was cancelled, and Whizzer had the bright idea to take us all to an art museum so we wouldn’t waste the day away. Dad and I made dumb comments about the exhibits while Cordelia and Charlotte helped keep Whizzer reigned in, and somehow Mendel got his arm stuck in one of the displays so security had to call the fire department to get it out,” Jason recalled, pointing to a picture of all of them standing with Mendel trying to pull his arm out of a hole in an abstract sculpture. Mark laughed along him, but couldn’t help but remember what had happened after they got home, and Jason returned to his mother’s house. Whizzer had lost his appetite, which wasn’t rare considering all the weird diets he had been trying out to keep his “supermodel physique” on point, as he often said. But this time, it seemed different. He was shaky, dizzy, confused. Thankfully, Marvin had convinced him to go lay down, simply convinced it was just a sudden cold.

  Thinking back now, how did he miss it?

  “It seems like you were all very close,” Mark mumbled. Ugh, he hated playing dumb, but what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could just jump up and shout “Hey! I’m your father, but just in a new body of a seventeen year old boy! Oh, by the way, the new guy I have a crush on just might be my dead boyfriend from thirty-six years ago!” No way in hell.

  Jason nodded slowly at Mark’s statement, his smile falling just a bit and taking on a more somber tone. “We were. It was all just so fast, though. One day, everything was fine and Whizzer and I were tossing a ball back and forth in the backyard while Mom and Dad argued about table arrangements at my Bar Mitzvah. The next, Mom’s picking me up from school telling me Whizzer’s sick and we’re going to visit him in the hospital. Then, out of nowhere...he was gone. And it took my dad too. Then Charlotte and Cordelia were gone...and Mendel, Mom...I spent my twenty-fourth birthday alone. Just me, an empty house, and too many bottles of alcohol to remember.”

  Mark felt as though he was being stabbed. It hurt to see his son, his only child in such pain, and that he hadn’t been there for him. He had died, and left his kid behind. 

  Why was the universe so cruel?

******

  By the time Mark left Jason’s house and began to make his way home, it had been nearly five hours. He didn’t even notice the time pass, since he was busy mentally recalling all the stories Jason told of the times when they were a family and everything was okay. Thankfully, he was told to come back again whenever he wanted, because discussing these things with somebody other than a therapist was relieving.

  When he finally returned home, Mark flopped onto his bed and immediately made the decision to procrastinate on all of his homework and check his phone instead. He had unblocked Michael’s number right after the situation that morning, and had apologized at lunch for his awful outburst from jumping to conclusions. This didn’t even slow Michael’s flirting, however. Mark didn’t mind though. At all.

  He had two missed calls from Corinna, with a follow up text that just said “ask Whizzer out, dumbass”. When he locked his phone he instantly got another text, which normally annoyed him but when he read the contact, he didn’t mind.

  Michael’s text made Mark’s heart temporarily stop.

_'wa_ _nna_ _go out with me tonight?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo sorry for being inactive!! I've had 0 motivation to write anything, but someone on Wattpad messaged me and asked when this chapter would be out, so I took that as motivation and will to write more, so here you go! I honestly have an idea already fro the end of this, but I promise I'll be making this at least 15 chapters before I end it, so bear with me! If you message me on Instagram or Tumblr, chapters tend to get out faster so don't hesitate to shoot me a message!


	7. Love Will Come and Find Me Again

  The rain had eased up significantly since that morning, and Mark could even see a light bit of sunlight peeking through the sunlight as he stood on his steps and waited for Michael to arrive. This was his favorite time to be outside, when it had just finished raining and everything was quiet and calm and just so right. These were the times when he used to sit on the deck overlooking the backyard and look at the tree line, enjoying the peace and the occasional sound of soft clicks as Whizzer sat next to him, camera in hand. While Marvin liked to look at nature on his own in private, Whizzer liked to document it with photos. So many photos. He’d often pretend that he didn’t notice when Whizzer snuck photos of him when he was supposed to be taking pictures of the flowers or something else out in nature.

  His lover certainly loved to take photos, even if the things he were documenting were odd, or sometimes, even morbid. During his final weeks, to keep him occupied in his hospital bed, Whizzer took photos of anything he could. The morphine drip, the progress of how thin his arms and legs got, the nurses who seemed to look even more exhausted with each new photograph, and every possible thing he could sneak a quick picture of. It seemed like his favorite thing to take pictures of during his hospital stay was Marvin. Whether he was calmly reading to him, or passed out in a chair by his side, or staring out the window with a newfound tinge of terror in his eyes, it would end up a brand new documented moment before it was over.

  The sound of a car pulling up the driveway thankfully pulled Mark out of his thoughts before the waterworks kicked in, and he looked up to see Michael parking.

  A fucking Camaro.

  Mark stepped off the porch in awe as his taller counterpart got out of the car, of course dressed in an outfit that was so tight he was convinced that it would take the Jaws of Life to get him out of it. “Uh, showing off much? We made out in a high school bathroom; I don’t really think you need to swoon me with fancy cars and skin-tight outfits,” he joked, crossing his arms a bit.

  “Who said I was showing off? I mean, I am, but that’s not the point,” Michael chuckled and pocketed his keys before leaning against the bright red car in a “cool guy” sorta way. “This is actually my car though.”

  “How? Are you secretly a CIA agent? Are you the FBI agent that monitors my laptop?”

  Michael scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes.  “No, my dad’s a CEO for some boring marketing company. I’m a latchkey kid, so he makes up for it by giving me a credit card and no spending limit. The car was my sixteenth birthday present. My mom got me a Mercedes, but he apparently thought it was ugly. They’re divorced but they still work together so they try to buy my affection so I don’t take each other’s sides. Sorry, am I rambling? I don’t really talk about it a lot.”

  “Ah, no worries. I’m a latchkey kid too. My parents own a magazine company and they’re always off on business to some other country,” Mark explained, wrapping his jacket tighter around his shoulders. “So, where are we going at six in the afternoon? It’s getting dark.”

  “Alright, old man. Hold your horses. It’s a surprise.” With that, Michael unlocked the car and opened Mark’s door for him. Mark smiled and thanked the boy before taking his seat, trying to mask just how nervous yet excited he really was.

**

  Michael had taken him to the park. It was really nice when they arrived; the last few kids were being led home by their mothers and it was peacefully quiet. They both stepped out of the car, and Mark almost had a panic attack when he saw what was in the other’s hand.

  “I’m kind of a photography nerd, sorry. I figured we could hang around here for a little and talk while I get some photos? Maybe if you end up being good company, I’ll take you out to dinner,” he said with a wink, turning on the camera and making Mark’s heart nearly go into overdrive.

  All the boy could do was simply nod, and thus began their journey for the next two hours. Michael took photos of the trees and flowers, solos shots of the lone swing set, and a couple of shots of Mark walking next to him or sitting on the swing after a while, all while they asked each other questions and told their stories of their lives.

  When they decided to end their park adventures, it was dark, with the only solid light source being the streetlights reflecting off of the black asphalt in the parking lot. Mark noticed it gave Michael a golden, almost angelic glow. It hurt, of course, but also felt so right.

  They returned to the car and Michael, as promised, drove to a pretty fancy restaurant. Mark suddenly felt underdressed and broke just by looking at the building. “Uh, do you think they’ll serve people who look like they just walked out of a bad nineties sitcom?” he asked jokingly, only to get two shopping bags thrown at his face.

  “Let me know if they’re too big or too small. I took the liberty of buying you some nice clothes that didn’t make me want to burn what you wear.”

  Mark made a face that could only be described as a mix between offended and unsure. “Hey! I think my clothes are pretty nice!”

  Michael eyed the other up and down before scoffing and crossing his arms. “Honey, don’t kid yourself. I have a better fashion sense than everyone at that godforsaken school, and that most definitely includes you.” Mark honestly wanted to be offended, but he really couldn’t. He recognized this argument from all the ones he had with Whizzer, so he chose to just give in, thank Michael for the clothes, and duck into the bathroom to change when they made their way into the restaurant.

  Dinner went by smoothly. Smoothly, meaning they nearly got kicked out from all the times Michael made Mark laugh so loudly he would disturb the other patrons. Thankfully, they made it to the end of their meal without getting kicked out and retreated back to the car.

  It only took Mark ten seconds after getting in the car to lean in and press his lips to Michael’s. It took Michael almost ten minutes to tell Mark to wait until they got to his house to continue.

**

  Mark remembered a lot from the life he lived before this one. He remembered his first real date with Whizzer, his second real date with Whizzer, their first kiss, kicking him out over a goddamn game of chess, missing him for two long years, being so happy when he came back into his life, and the dreadful downhill slope of his last few months.

  What he couldn’t recall, however, was the first time they’d had sex. He didn’t mean a shifty handjob in the back alley of a gay bar downtown, or a sloppy blowjob in his car. He meant actual, big boy sex. Their first time actually screwing was apparently sponsored by Jack Daniels, from the amount of booze Marvin had consumed prior to the event. Even still, their first time having sex when he was fully sober was an experience he would never forget. It was terrifying, sure, but Whizzer was surprisingly sweet. Not exactly patient, but sweet nonetheless.

  And now, lying next to an already softly snoring Michael, Mark thought back to those moments. Like Whizzer, Michael wasn’t particularly on the patient side, but he was very caring in helping the nervous boy.

  Oddly enough, lying in bed were the times that Mark missed Whizzer the most, but those thoughts were tucked away safely in the back of his mind. He could finally just focus on the moment and enjoy the time he had with Michael, who was starting to stir a little in his sleep.

  “Marv, come back to bed.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Mark couldn’t breathe. His blood ran cold, and he suddenly understood how the people who Medusa turned to stone felt. He probably just heard him wrong, he could’ve just said Mark, or he was talking about a different Marv-

  “Marv, Jason’s fine just come back to bed.”

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  And, just like that, he was once again left with a thousand questions and no right answer.


	8. It All Comes Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

  “Mark, I know I’ve said it before, but I really suggest you see a licensed psychiatrist.”

  The man in question groaned as he lifted his head up from where he had it rested on the counselor’s desk. Menachem was sitting across from him in the office chair, the actual counselor off in the staff room eating lunch. It was now Friday, and after enduring a week of silence due to his cousin being sick, Mark was eager to spill to Menachem about what had happened after his date with Michael.

  “But he remembers! He might deny it, but he does! I just...I need to find out how to help him remember!”

  Menachem sighed and jotted a couple quick notes down, trying to take Mark seriously despite his uneasiness. “I think this would be a conversation you’d need to take slowly...and if this is actually real, and not something in your head, you might want to try to find something that can help him jog his memory. Something tangible and real.”

  Mark nodded along and went through his mind of something that could help. “Thanks. Hey, do you want to come over on Saturday?”

  “Oh, um...actually, Trinity and I are going to that new art museum that opened up across town.”

  “...You finally asked her out?” Mark asked, smiling just a little. 

  “Well,  _ she _ really asked  _ me _ out. I-I was going to, but I got choked up and she sorta filled in the blank.”

  Mark chuckled and got up when the bell rang, ready to face the rest of the school day with Michael.

**

  The naturally cool air of autumn was beginning to grow a bit colder, now to the point that Mark needed a long sleeved shirt and a jacket as he walked to Jason’s house from school to spend time with him and reminisce a bit more. It was the short amount of time he never knew he needed to distract himself and also remind himself of this life he missed so damn much. As he walked, he thought about what it would’ve been like to watch Jason grow up, graduate high school, go to college, get a degree, get married. Live a life he always wanted his son to have.

  He walked up the driveway to the old house and knocked on the door, expecting Jason to answer. Instead, a boy around the age of eleven answered instead. “...Who are you?” The boy asked, tilting his head in a way Jason always did as a child.

  “Uh, Mark. Is Jason here?” he asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

  “Dad, some guy’s at the door asking for you!”

  Holy shit.

  Jason was a father. He had a kid.

  The man in question walked up to the door as the kid ran back off. “Ah, Mark. I almost thought you had abandoned me today,” he said with a slight chuckle, gesturing for Mark to come in. Suddenly, he heard a thud coming from another place in the house and called out, “What are you three getting up to?”

  Correction: Jason didn’t have  _ a  _ kid. He had  _ kids _ .

  The children all ran into the room together, two boys who looked to be around the same age and a girl who seemed about eight or nine. “We were just playing. Who’s this?” one of the boys asked, pointing at Mark.

  “This is Mark. He’s a friend. Mark, these are my kids. Marvin, Mendel, and Carlotta.”

  Mark felt like he died again. Jason named one of his kids after him. His pride as a parent extended all expectation.

  The kids soon left again to go play and Jason brought Mark a can of soda. “Sorry I hadn’t mentioned them. I rarely even see them. My ex wife Heather has sole custody of them. I’m lucky to get weekends with them.”

  “Oh... I'm sorry about that.”

  “Don't be. They're a handful, but I'm grateful for the time I have with them. I know my parents were the same way. Marvin and Mendel are twins. Heather let me name the first born Marvin Whizzer Schulz, and we agreed on Mendel Issac Schulz for the second born. Carlotta was born nearly three months early, and spent six weeks in the NICU. I spent more time there than anyone else, so Heather also let me name her, Carlotta Trina Schulz. I picked Carlotta because it's close to a blend of my godmothers’ names, Charlotte and Cordelia, and Trina was my mother's name. I felt the best way to honor the family I lost was to have their names live on, you know?”

  Mark nodded in an attempt to not look weird or suspicious, but in his mind he was trying desperately to keep from crying, because those kids looked so much like Jason. Those were the grandchildren he never got to meet, and that killed him more than anything else.

**

  “You really don't get sports, do you?”

  Michael stole a few fries from Mark's container, earning a playful smack to his hand from the other boy. The two of them were currently sitting on the roof of Michael's house, enjoying a meal of fast food and watching the stars shine brightly across the cold night air as they discussed random topics. “No, I don't. They're all boring and make you sweaty and gross,” Mark answered, setting the wrapper for his burger aside.

  “That's not all there is to it. It's really fun and lets out all the energy you build up throughout the day.”

  “I'll tell you what: combine all sports into one and call it Ballstorm and maybe I'll watch it. Until then, I'm gonna stick with what I'm good at.”

  “Drama and singing?” 

  “That's it.”

  Michael chuckled softly and let their conversation fade to a comfortable silence. Mark enjoyed the quiet and looked up at the stars, thinking of all the times he and Whizzer used to sit in their backyard and stargaze, sharing gentle kisses and casual conversation until the early hours of the morning. He missed it so much.

  Mark suddenly heard a familiar tune that made his heart melt, and it was when he turned his head that he noticed Michael was singing.

 

_ I will be with you wherever you are _

_ Distance can’t keep us apart _

_ I’ll keep believing no matter how far _

_ You’ll be with me in my heart _

 

  That was it. The song Mark had only heard in his dreams. The one he struggled to remember despite everything else he did that seemed way less important. That was the song Marvin wrote during all that time spent in the hospital. The one he sang to Whizzer during the nights he couldn’t sleep, weak and barely able to breathe. The one Whizzer repeated to him when things began to look bleak and they both knew their journey would not be ending in the two of them getting to return home together. The song that they both shared, alone. That was it.

 

  Mark sang back, startling Michael, but he wasn’t thinking of that. He was so overwhelmed with emotions, and he just wanted his Whizzer back in any way he could.

 

_ Though all seems lost as night descends _

_ I’ll keep you safe from the cold _

_ When morning comes and all the darkness ends _

_ We’ll be as one ‘til we’re old _

 

  Michael looked at Mark with tears in his eyes, stunned in silence, and Mark knew it. That was the break. It was him. They both began to sing now, voices joined together in a perfect harmony. It was no longer Mark and Michael, two teenagers singing on a roof on a cool November night. It was Marvin and Whizzer, two souls who had been lost and were now finally right back where they should be.

 

_ We’ve been together a life and a day _

_ But we’ve a new day to start _

_ We’ll make forever, we both know the way _

_ You’ll be with me in my heart _

 

  Both boys, now singing through tears, looked into each other’s eyes and saw the men they’d lost, and the men they were. Mark felt like he was going to burst from the overwhelming joy he had.

 

_ You’ll be with me in my heart _

 

  “...Marv?” Michael asked through a wavering voice, causing Mark to smile sadly and place his hand on his face the way Whizzer always loved.

 

  “It’s me, Whizzer. God, I’ve missed you.”

 


	9. If I Met Myself Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Michael talk about the important stuff and Mark thinks about his life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK IT'S BEEN SO LONG BUT I'M BACK AND UPDATES WILL BE MORE FREQUENT I PROMISE

“You know, at some point we’re gonna have to actually get out of this bed.”

  Mark looked back the face smiling at him and couldn’t resist the urge to smile back. That familiar grin never failed to make any tension melt away. Whizzer’s grin. One he’d spent long years without and now felt like a millionaire that he got to see again.

  “Yeah...but until then, I’m perfectly fine with just staying here. Fuck everything else.”

  Michael let out a soft laugh and kissed the boy softly before returning his head to his chest. They both hoped that if they laid there for long enough, all the years of grief and confusion and heartache that they were put through could be ignored and they wouldn’t have to have the conversation that they were both absolutely dreading.

  But every necessary conversation must be had, no matter how awkward or painful it may be.

  After another hour of laying there in blissful silence, Mark finally sat up, sighing slowly and pushing Michael’s hair out of his eyes with a smile before speaking. “What does this all mean? Where the hell do we go from here?”

  “I...I don’t know. A few hours ago I was just a stylish gay kid who had a crush. Now I’m god knows what who’s in love. Things are changing way too quickly.” In the pause that followed, Mark watched as Michael’s slight smile faded to a look of realization, then devastation. “Wait...how did you-”

  That only brought up a wave of memories that he really did not want to experience again. He already allowed himself to reimagine the pain on the days he particularly felt alone. “Same as you. Doctors didn’t know what was happening. Charlotte tried her best to stop it. Nothing seemed to work.”

  For the first time, Mark watched tears fall down Michael’s cheeks. And it was just as painful as it was for him to witness Whizzer cry for the first time, pale and hopeless in a blinding white hospital room. Not matter the circumstance, he knew it just absolutely killed him to watch the man he loved cry.

  “...Where do you think we’d be now if none of that had happened?” Michael asked, wiping his tears with a tissue from his nightstand.

  That was an easy question for Mark to answer. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that. I’d imagine we’d still be living together, hell, maybe even married if you would’ve agreed to it without whining about us being a couple of stereotypical old queers trying to recapture our glory days with rights we didn’t have before. Um, we’d still have our mornings in the backyard. We’d still be bickering about the dumbest things and you’d get upset and I’d get upset but we’d eventually make up and be okay again. We would’ve gone on more double dates with Charlotte and Cordelia. And...we would’ve gotten to see Jason grow up, get married, have his kids-”

  “Hold on- Jason got married? He has kids? ...How do you know this?”

  After a second of debate in trying to figure out what the hell to say, Mark leaned back against the headboard. “I may have...gone over to our old place where he’s living and visited him?”

  “What the hell did you tell him? That you’re a goddamn boy scout?” Michael asked with the same biting wit that struck a wave of nostalgia for the other.

  “No, I just told him I was one of your relatives. He knows nothing about your family...none of us really did, so it wasn’t that hard to convince him.”

  “So what are we just waiting around here for? I want to go see him!”

  Mark looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow, though a smirk did slowly follow. “I don’t think he’ll be too thrilled to get guests at two in the morning,” he said after checking the time on his phone. “Besides, how do we explain who you are?”

  “Easy. Tell him I’m your boyfriend.” Michael replied in a “duh” tone, laying down to place his head back on Mark’s chest. “C’mon, can we just please go tomorrow? I miss that kid like crazy.”

  “Keep in mind that that kid is technically older than you.”

  “Physically, yes, but mentally-”

  “Still yes,” Mark said with a smile, earning a playful smack from Michael. “So...I can guess this means I can finally start calling you Whizzer again without feeling like shit.”

  “Yep...fuck, it’s gonna be so hard to not call you Marv now,” he groaned, sighing and shutting his eyes.

  The slight glare of the streetlights outside reflected on the ceiling of Michael’s bedroom, allowing Mark to vaguely make out the shape of the room as his eyes darted around to keep from crying. He didn’t know why everything made him so damn emotional all of a sudden, but the sound of somebody calling him Marv just made him want to burst into tears. After  _ so long  _ of going through the motions of life, it finally felt like he could just begin, and really  _ live _ . “You’ll get the hang of it. I did.”

  Mark didn’t hear a response after that. He glanced down at his chest, and the soft glow of the faded lights illuminated the boy’s face in such a way that made him look like a dream. And that he was. An absolute dream, one that Mark had spend too many years searching for. Too many years hoping for. Too many years repressing.

  And now that that dream was a reality, he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait to wake up. 

******

  Mark never understood baseball, and in turn that meant he didn’t like it. It just never made sense to him, no matter how many times his friends tried to explain it to him. But now, here he was, sitting in the stands watching Michael’s baseball practice while pretending he wasn’t extremely uncomfortable from sitting on cold hard metal for an hour and a half. 

  In the short while that he didn’t see the boy out on the field, he allowed himself the time to reflect on all the changes that had happened. Just a few months ago, he was miserable. Carrying out his god awful existence with drama classes, melancholic songs, and hours of painful thoughts and recollections he couldn’t get rid of. And now, he had what he knew was his soulmate back in his life, along with his son, and although his friends were gone, and that still hurt beyond all comprehension, he knew he’d be okay.

  If he had the chance to go back to the man he was before, to meet him and warn him of the great Whizzer Brown and the impact he’d have on his life, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t give his old self the opportunity to run away from the best love he could ever have. Even to warn him of the two years they’ve have to spend without each other, he wouldn’t do it. If he did, then he’d never have the chance to fix the way he acted towards the closest people in his life. They would’ve continued their endless streak of fight, break up, make up, repeat, and that would not have been fair to either of them.

  Mark believed in fate. He always did, even if Marvin did not. And if fate brought him and Michael together the same way it did all those years ago, then he was sure as hell not going to do anything to mess with that. This was their chance.  _ Their chance.  _ They finally had a shot to live their lives together, to grow old together with no more interruptions or diseases or hospitals or scared confessions or tearful goodbyes.

  “Mark!” The sound of his name being called made him look forward, smiling at the sight of Michael jogging up to him and greeting him with a gentle kiss.

  “Well well, look at you. Y’know, even though I hate baseball, you do look incredibly hot in that uniform.”

  Michael smirked, stepping back and crossing his arms. “It’s a gift. I make everything look hot,” he said with a laughed, quickly turning his head at the sharp whistle. “I gotta go. Hey, do you wanna go to a party tonight? All of the team is going and I want a hot date with me.”

  "Can you settled for me instead?" Mark asked with a laugh, before giving in and nodding. “Sure, is this party invite only or can the others join us?”

  “It’s just a house party, of course they can come. Just try to get Corinna to snatch something from her parents’ liquor cabinet.”

  “You got it.” They cut their conversation short when the whistle was blown again, and with one final quick kiss, Michael ran back to the field.

_   Yeah, we’re gonna be okay,  _ Mark thought to himself.  _ We’re gonna be just fine. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STALK ME CORNER:
> 
> Tumblr: @elderfisherprice  
> Instagram: @elderfisherprice  
> Twitter: @eld_fisherprice  
> Snapchat: @mcpriceleytho


	10. Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the party, old feelings resurface and old games are played

  Parties sucked. Mark had decided that long ago.

  From the loud music that practically rendered him deaf to the concentrated clouds of smoke that stung his eyes, even the compacted teenagers foregoing the rules of personal space, all of it made him want to turn around and walk back out the front door. But he couldn't. He came here for Whizzer.

  "Wow, when Whizzer says it's a party, he means a party," Corinna mused, smiling at her girlfriend and quickly opening the bottle of vodka she'd managed to grab per Whizzer's request.

  "More like a rave," Trinity mumbled, quiet enough so only Menachem could hear her. He simply chuckled at her statement and took her hand, which made her blush and Mark stare at them.

  "Okay, I'm gonna go find him. When I get him I'll come find you guys."

  "You make it sound like we're on a secret mission," Charlene commented with a laugh as she stopped Corinna, who was beginning to attempt to down the bottle in one go.

  He playfully rolled his eyes before scanning the crowd, looking for his lover. It shouldn't be too hard, Michael always dressed better than every other person, so finding him shouldn't be difficult at all. Pushing his way through the herd of tipsy and laughing teenagers, he thought about how quickly everything had been going. Months prior, he was living in agony. Now, he had the love of his life, or rather, lives back, but...now what? That was a question that was stuck in his head. Despite how much he loved Whizzer and was ecstatic he got to get back all the time he thought they'd lost forever, he didn't think this was all as easy as picking up where they left off. After all, they were just kids now. They'd only lived a fraction of their lives, and Whizzer just now remembered the years of love and pain they had been through. He didn't have to spend the countless sleepless nights thinking about why the world had chosen him of all people to live again, all without the people he thought he couldn't live without. Mark did. Mark had those years of suffering weighing down on his shoulders, and no amount of relief of seeing his lover alive and well could just erase that.

  The spiral of his mind ceased when he caught sight of a boy in a tight outfit with perfect hair, and Mark smiled as he approached him. "Hey there, stranger."

  "Hey," Michael replied with a matching smile, taking a step forward. His arms made their way to drape over Mark's shoulders, and seconds later, Mark was steps away and Michael was stood there, both in shock and utter disappointment. He only stayed there for a moment longer before turning and leaving. Mark had to replayed what had happened in his mind to fully grasp what he had just done.

  _I shoved him away_ , he thought to himself as the sinking feeling in his stomach only increased. _I just fucking shoved him away._

  He quickly followed Michael, reaching the kitchen and noticing the boy was nowhere in sight. However, the back door was open, a clear indication that that's where he'd gone.

  As he moved from the hot atmosphere of a packed house of teenagers to the cool night air, his eyes landed on the boy whose back was towards him. Mark knew he'd messed up, majorly. Mostly because Michael was quiet. He knew that silence. It was specifically designed by Whizzer to let Marvin know whatever he'd done was absolutely shitty and he needed to own up to his mistake before a fight broke out.

  "...Why did you do that?" Michael asked, his voice staying even and low which sent waves of panic through Mark's stomach.

  "I don't know," he answered in the same tone. He looked down at his shoes to avoid any eye contact in case the boy turned around.

  Though, when he did actually turn around, Mark couldn't help but look up. He wish he hadn't. As expected, Michael's previous expression of hurt had turned into one of anger.

  "I can't do this. Not this time, Marvin. Don't you fucking get it?! This is our chance to start over and fix all the bullshit we went through before. How the fuck are we supposed to do that if you're still gonna act like a closet case?!"

  "Sorry that I can't fix how I still think! It's hard to just forget about everyone staring at you!"

  Michael groaned in response and rolled his eyes the same way that always used to piss Marvin off. With a demeanor that screamed that he was annoyed and sick of it. "If you can't handle it then I can't stay with you! I'm too tired for this!"

  That phrase made both of them flinch, and the fight was quickly paused.

_"I'm too tired for this..." Whizzer panted, looking up at Marvin apologetically._

_"It's fine. We don't have to," he replied, just glad to have the other back in his life as he moved so he was no longer hovering above him._

_"...I'm too tired for this," Whizzer said quietly, glancing at the worried man sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed patiently trying to spoon applesauce into his mouth, "I'm not hungry. I just want to sleep, Marv."_

_"...Just one more bite, okay?" Marvin pleaded, only to sigh and set the still full cup down on the tray table covered with practically untouched food._

_"I...I'm too tired for this," Whizzer wheezed, barely audible as he faintly squeezed Marvin's hand._

_"For what?" Marvin asked in return, trying his damnedest to maintain his composure and not cry for the thousandth time that day._

_"...All of this...I'm too tired..." he answered slowly, acting like he couldn't see the tears starting to drip down his lover's cheeks._

_"I'm just...so damn tired."_

  "Do you still remember how it felt?" Mark asked without even thinking.

  There's a long moment of pause before an answer, and it breaks the boy's heart. "...Yes. Some of it."

  They both take a seat on the cold, concrete steps and share a long sigh that barely comforts the two of them. "It's all mostly a blur. I can't remember every day in detail but I can remember...how sad you were. How scared I was. How everyone was trying to be upbeat and happy at Jason's Bar Mitzvah and how hard I tried not to ruin it for him. I can remember the pain most of all...but that's the hardest thing to forget. Nobody could forget something like that."

  Marvin remembered the feeling. He knew how hard it was to forget something so severe.

  "I don't want to repeat things. I don't want to have a cycle of fighting and getting back together and breaking up. We already lived that and I don't want to go through it again. I sure as hell don't want to spend another two years without you to remind myself just how much I love you. I know I'm an asshole but I swear I'll try harder. You won't be a secret, you won't be a "friend", you'll just be mine...okay?"

  Michael smiled brightly and brushed a bit of hair out of Mark's eyes. "That's my Marvin."

  "So does that mean you're my Micah?" Mark asked, earning a scowl form the other.

  "Leave my real name out of this."

  They both laughed as Mark raised his hands in surrender, pulling each other close and losing all previous conversation with a kiss.

  "...What the hell is going on?"

  Mark pulled away first to look behind them, where all four of their friends were standing there in total confusion. "How much did you hear?"

  "All of it," Corinna blurted out before someone else could speak up.

  Michael muttered a curse before looking at Mark, giving him a look that essentially said, "okay, what do we do now?".

  The sound of the cicadas were loud enough to drown out any surrounding noise, giving the boy an opportunity to think clearly. He thought there was only one way to explain it all. Only one solution to this.

  He pulled his keys from his pocket and sighed, taking Michael's hand. "Come with us."

  Trinity gave him a puzzled look. "Where are we going?"

  "The cemetery."

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to motivate me to get off my ass and write, you can message me on these social media things:
> 
> Tumblr: @elderfisherprice  
> Instagram: @elderfisherprice  
> Twitter: @eld_fisherprice  
> Snapchat: @mcpriceleytho


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